


For Want of a Story

by PixiePaws1



Series: What She Wants - From Here to There [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Don't mean to bash David -he's just in shock, F/M, Young Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Young Emma Swan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixiePaws1/pseuds/PixiePaws1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the 3rd entry in the 'What She Wants: From Here to There' series. Emma and Killian's fledgling romance makes headlines. David's not doing so well with the revelation that his adored daughter has discovered boys. NOTE: Some people may not like the way David is represented, but it was NOT my intention to bash him. He'll come around once he gets past his initial shock. Personally I think he's a sweetie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Want of a Story

**Author's Note:**

> I know I am supposed to be working on the next chapter of Crushing Ice but I saw the photo taken by katman of Colin in his orange t-shirt and 'this' happened . . . would link to it if I could! I hope you enjoy- this one's for Relliurad *wink*

“Dinner, it is then,” Mary-Margaret said, fighting to keep the smirk off her face and failing miserably. Said smirk was directed at her decidedly unamused husband. 

David sat at the breakfast table in utter misery. His mouth flapped open and closed as, a whole lot of air, and very little sound was emitted. Having learned the night before that his beloved baby girl had finally surrendered to her hormones and had targeted some dark haired blue eyed idiot boy, he’d spent the night tossing and turning, plotting all the evil things he could do to discourage Emma’s foray into the tumultuous world of teenaged dating. 

Knowing there wasn’t one damn thing he could do that he’d get away with, sheriff or not, hearing his wife’s instruction to Emma to invite this idiot boy into his home just made him sulk further.

Mary-Margaret, neatly snagged the toast as it popped up from the toaster, intending to add it to the pile on the plate she held, but Emma plucked it from her mother’s hand. Completely ignoring her father’s distressed state, she plopped onto her usual chair and began to slather a goodly portion of butter and honey onto her toast. 

“Tonight? Thanks Mom, I’ll ask him this morning, ok?” Emma phrased it as a question, but her tone and, the fact that she didn’t even pause for confirmation before stuffing her toast in her mouth and then dashing up the stairs to her room, indicated it was a done deal in her mind. 

“No! I’m not allowing that, that . . .,” David found his voice.

“The words you’d be better be using to end that sentence are, ‘very nice young man’, if you have any hope of keeping in Emma’s good books,” Mary-Margaret admonished. “You said yourself on the drive home last night, that you didn‘t like the idea of Emma dating a boy you hadn‘t met. Having him to dinner is a good way to get to know him. We‘re not busy tonight, and one more to feed is no trouble.” 

“No, I said I didn’t want Emma dating ANY boy. Having one in the house, shovelling our food into his trap, lounging all over our furniture with his sweaty, grubby, grabby hands all over my daughter is not going to change my mind,” David informed Mary-Margaret. He tried drawing himself up to his full height and crossing his arms to show how intractable his opinion was, but he was so hyped up with the horror of it all, that he desperately needed to pace. 

He got all of four steps in before Mary-Margaret, previous smirk replaced by a stern and determined expression, shoved him backwards and got right up in his face. Then came the jabbing finger square into his chest as she punctuated each word she said. “OUR daughter, David. I get a say, too. I’m the one who does the cooking, your odd bout of outdoor grilling aside, and I say this Killian boy is welcome to our home and to all the good food I can get into him. Young boys always need feeding, hollow legs most of them,” She paused and shook her head when she realised she was getting off topic, “The point is that Emma was bound to start dating some time, and from I could see, all the way across the room, this Killian seems adorable. He was actually blushing.”

“Now, sit and eat your breakfast,” She said, putting the toast on the table and casting an eye back to the griddle to check the waffles. 

David snorted and rolled his eyes, but Mary-Margaret turned back and put a hand on his cheek and brought his gaze to hers. “Emma is clearly already very taken with him, so that road is already crossed. And, if you are so determined to be the over protective daddy, remember that if they are at the table, right under your nose, they can’t be anywhere else, doing . . . anything that will send you into apoplexy.”

Digging really deep, David managed to darken his expression just a tad more. “I suppose you have a point. But if I see less than both his hands above the table at any given time he’ll be eating all his future meals through a straw.” 

“David Nolan, you will not threaten that boy. You will greet him in a civil manner and shake his hand like an evolved human being and the gentle soul that I married. Now, consider how lucky we are that Emma hasn’t fixed her sights on that awful Neal Gold or that smarmy Walsh boy. There’s something very shifty about him.” 

“You’re assuming this Kinkirk twerp is an improvement,” David offered with a pout.

“His name is, Killian, David, don’t think I will let you get away with that passive-aggressive getting his name wrong schtick, either,” Mary-Margaret had both hands on hips and tapped her foot. Letting out a sigh, she took the pan off the hotplate and scooped the bacon onto the plate and added the now cooked waffles. She took that to the table and slid elegantly into the chair next to David.

“Honey, I know this is all very stressful for you, especially since it seems to have happened over night, but take the anxiety down a notch and think of this.” She waited for David to look her in the eye, then she tapped his chin with her index finger. “I fell in love with a kind and handsome boy who turned out to be a perfect gentleman. Emma carries our genes. We gave her love and support and as much good sense as we could to add to her natural, excellent judgment of good character. Every day I look at Emma and I marvel at the amazing daughter we have.”

“She’s something special, no doubt about it,” David agreed. Pride shining in his eyes. He put a hand on her tummy. “If we are half as lucky with the next one . . . “ The words stuck as his joy overwhelmed him. They’d only found out a few days ago that they were pregnant again. They had almost given up hope of adding to their family and had even discussed fostering and adoption; something that still wasn’t off the table despite the new baby.

“Special is exactly the right word, and now it’s time to trust her judgement,” Mary-Margaret said. “I promise if he turns out to be . . .,” she fumbled for the politest expression, “Less than what Emma thinks, she’ll have no issue in cutting him loose. She’d never give someone false hope.” 

David leant over to rest his forehead against Mary-Margaret’s. “He gets one chance . . . and one meal.”

Mary-Margaret hummed, then kissed him. 

“Eww, really? Hands and mouths, parents. Off, off, off, off!” Emma had finished her toast and changed into her jeans and a red t-shirt, before coming back to the kitchen for some bacon. Amorous exhibitions between her parents were not welcome, especially at the breakfast table. She held her backpack up to block her parents from view. “I’m going out now. Just, just, none of that until I leave the house.” She peeked around her bag to check it was safe to look. 

David held both hands up in the air. Emma smiled and, taking a piece of bacon, she was off out the back door. 

Via Ruby’s hotline to Victor, Emma had learned that Killian was down at the docks helping his parents. Emma’s friend, Elsa, was meeting Emma at Granny’s, since it was virtually halfway between their homes. From there they would collect Ruby, and the three of them were heading to the dockside, so Emma could extend the dinner invitation to Killian. When she arrived at Granny’s her friends were waiting out front. Ruby ran up to Emma and hugged her, careful not to tip the hot chocolate she had prepared for her friend.

“For you, lovely lady,” Ruby said, once she drew back. She gave a little curtsey before handing the hot drink into Emma’s grasping hand.

“You have no idea how much I need this,” Emma said, dramatically. She clutched her hot chocolate to her chest and closed her eyes.

“Bad morning?” Elsa asked. 

“Parents . . . Kissing . . .hands, just . . . Everywhere!” Emma explained, and gave an extravagant shiver.

“That which can’t be unseen. I get it,” Elsa said by way of commiseration. She patted Emma’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, speak to me when you’ve seen Geppetto with his hands on Granny’s backside while she cooks breakfast for him. I am seriously considering running away to boarding school,” Ruby chimed in.

“Oh, poor Ruby. That’s too awful for words. Isn’t there a law against old people getting it on in the same house as their grandchildren? Maybe you could sue,” Emma suggested.

“Ha, ha, you’re such a comedian. C’mon, Elsa, let’s get Emma to her hot new boyfriend,” Ruby said, grinning wickedly.

“Hot boyfriend? So the rumours are true? How absolutely delicious. Emma, Darling, I must come with you. I absolutely have to meet the boy that has tempted Storybrooke‘s own Ice Princess to sin.” 

Emma groaned as she realised who had spoken. Cissy-Ella De Vil seemed to have appeared from nowhere. She seemed to do that a lot. 

“Don’t you have a chess nerd to skin, somewhere?” Ruby glared at the interloper.

Cissy-Ella wrote a gossip blog, She had wanted to write one for the school paper but she was so liberal with her facts that she was banned. Social media was now her kingdom and the school her hunting ground.

There was also the little matter of her vendetta.

Cissy was just itching to get something on Emma. Her grievances were two fold. 

First, there was Emma’s cousin, Zelena, who had claimed that Arthur Pendragon, Cissy’s boyfriend at the time, was the father of her child. Zelena had made this announcement from her place of exile; where Cissy couldn’t get to her, so she was going after the Nolan that was within her reach. Second, she just hated that Emma had been offered the chance to write the column in the paper that Cissy had been denied. Then Emma turned the opportunity down, citing she was already over committed. Cissy’s interpretation was that Emma saw Cissy’s dream job as beneath her; hence she would seize on any chance to tear down Emma’s reputation. 

“De Vil, stay the hell out of my business!” Emma, hands curled into fists, glared balefully at Cissy, who remained completely unfazed, but she did hold her hands up in surrender.

“Really Darling, no need for violence. Freedom of the press and all that,” Cissy dissembled.  
“Let’s go, ladies,” Elsa said, quietly. She took Ruby by the elbow and pulled her after Emma, who had turned on her heel and strode smartly off.

“Yes, off you go. Enjoy your day,” Cissy called after them with false friendliness. “Make it newsworthy,” she muttered under her breath. Ruby turned and gave her the finger. Waiting until the three girls had disappeared around the corner, Cissy walked across the road and began to tail them. Her instincts were screaming ‘STORY’ and far be it from her to ignore them.

Both, before their move to Maine and after, the Jones boys were expected to work on Saturday mornings; however neither one regarded it as a chore. The ocean was in their blood, so they usually couldn’t get there fast enough. Today, however, their enthusiasm had been somewhat dampened as Brennan had set them to cleaning up the deck of the Sea Jewel. Usually the crew would do this but the captain’s wife had gone into labour and Brennan had joyfully sent them all to the hospital. 

Emma, Ruby and Elsa arrived at the docks and went straight to the Harbourmaster’s office to enquire where Killian might be. She had sent them to the Sea Jewel’s berth where they found Liam cursing heavily at one of the stubborn winches that would not give one iota, no matter how hard he pulled.

And he was pulling mighty hard on that winch handle. 

So hard that the muscles in his arms drew Elsa’s and Ruby’s eyes like magnets. They did, with great difficulty, refrain from drooling. Emma, as always unable to be distracted from her predetermined course, stepped forward.

“Excuse me. The Harbourmaster sent us here. I’m looking for Killian Jones,” Emma asked.

Liam looked up to find three young ladies all staring at him. It took just a moment for the Jones charm to kick in.

“Yes. I’m Liam, Killian’s older brother.” Liam smiled as it occurred to him who might be searching for Killian. “Would you, by any chance, be the lovely Emma? The one that has my little brother all a fluster?”

Some girls might have rolled their eyes. Some girls might have blushed. 

Emma was not ‘some girl’. 

“A fluster? Really? That works for me,” Emma confirmed with a satisfied smirk. “Yes, I’m Emma. Pleased to meet you.” She offered her hand and Liam shook it solemnly. “These are my friends, Ruby and Elsa.”

“Oh, Emma, are you sure you’re after the right Jones?” Ruby said loud enough for Liam to hear. Her eyes ran all over Liam’s solid form, then she winked at him. He might have blushed and gone for the signature Jones move of scratching behind his ear, but he seemed not have heard at all. All his attention was focused on the gloriously beautiful blue eyed, Elsa, who was smiling shyly to Ruby’s left. He was a college man, not given to fancying high school girls, but as he looked at Elsa, he thought she’d be worth waiting for. She looked like the kind of girl a man married, as opposed to the free wheeling party girls at college.

“Hi,” Liam said. His expression dreamy. “I’m Liam.”

“Yes, I heard you before. I’m Elsa.” She extended her hand to shake but Liam captured it gently and kissed her knuckles. Elsa felt her breath catch a little. Her eyes unable to leave his.

Emma and Ruby looked at each other and smirked. “Looks like Elsa found a new friend,” Ruby whispered in Emma’s ear. 

“Good for her,” Emma whispered back, before coughing slightly to interrupt the eye flirting between Liam and Elsa. “Ah, Liam? Is Killian here? You didn’t say.”

“He’s astern,” Liam answered, eyes not leaving Elsa’s. “That way.” He pointed to the back end of the vessel. “Please go on through.”

“I’ll stay here and chaperone,” Ruby offered, waving Emma on her way.

Emma walked slowly over the deck towards the stern and heard the sounds of movement. She rounded the side of the boat’s cabin and although she found the object of her quest, she also lost every thought in her head. 

Killian, in a pair of tight blue jeans and a pale orange tank top, was bent over a pile of lobster pots. She’d not been treated to the sight of Killian’s rear end before, covered as it usually was by a shirt tale or a jacket. Now, here it was, in all its perfect glory, on full display, just for her.

She licked her lips and tried to swallow, but her jaw wouldn’t work, hanging open as it was. Self assured, no nonsense, Emma Nolan, was absolutely frozen in rapt contemplation of Killian Jones’ butt. If her father could only see her now!

Evidently some sort of sound came out of her agape mouth, as Killian snapped upright and turned around. If his back end had her a mess, then the front side sent her spiralling completely beyond reason. He was wearing his contacts so he could wear his darkest sunnies to cope with the bright light reflected by the water. His hair was flopping over his forehead and his skin gleamed with sweat. Who knew Killian Jones, nerd of Storybrooke High, had arms like that! 

“Emma!” Was all he said. He smiled broadly, dimples winking at her. He started to reach out to her and was suddenly conscious of his sweaty condition. He then made Emma’s year and his greatest mistake. He lifted the bottom of his tank to wipe the sweat off his hands and his face, and Emma’s gaze zeroed straight in on his toned abs. Oh yes, those pocket protectors and plaid shirts had been hiding all sorts of goodies and Emma’s Christmas had clearly come early. Killian might be slim, yet to grow fully into his lanky limbs, but he was seriously toned.

Absolutely mesmerised, Emma’s fingers itched to touch all that skin and, with a start she realised her hand was, in fact, making its own way towards Killian’s chest. Thoroughly embarrassed, she snatched her hand back which set off a most unfortunate chain of events. 

She hit her elbow on the precariously stacked lobster pots behind her and several fell off the top, leaving the others swaying, dangerously. Killian’s hands shot out and he jerked her forward and into his arms. For a moment they were fine, just smiling at each other. Then the rest of the pots all over balanced and came down with a loud clatter. Killian tried to pull Emma out of the way but as he stepped back, his foot slipped on the wet deck and down they both went. 

Killian panicked, thinking that Emma might have been hurt. 

“Are you all right? Emma? Please tell me you’re okay,” He asked, not completely aware that he was running his hands over her arms and down her back and other places, in his haste to make sure she was unharmed. Emma could not have cared less if she’d cut her own leg off. Killian had his hands on her and she couldn’t be happier.

“I’m fine, really,” She assured him, and let her hands do some wandering of their own. 

At hearing the noises from the stern, Liam, Ruby and Elsa came running. They reached the stern just as Killian was trying to help Emma up, but before they could ask what happened, the unwelcome voice of Cissy was heard. She’d followed them and, while Ruby and Elsa were occupied with Liam, she had snuck onto the boat berthed next to the Sea Jewel and from her hiding place on the deck she’d seen the entire incident.

And snapped a slew of photos . . . all in high definition.

“Hmm, Emma Nolan, rolling about on the high seas with the young and wealthy Killian Jones, heir to a fortune in fish sticks,” Cissy said, laughing. She waved her phone at Emma. “Who knew you were such a gold digger? Or that Killian was so photogenic?” She blew a kiss to the red faced Jones.

Things just got ugly from that point onwards. There was shouting, threats, character slurs, a healthy amount of cursing (who would have guessed that Elsa‘s vocabulary extended that far!) and there would most definitely have been hair pulling, except that once she got going, Cissy was too fast to catch, even for the fleet of foot, Ruby.

With Cissy making a clean getaway all Emma and Killian could do was wait for the feature article in Cissy’s blog to hit, and when it did, it was a doozy.

**_‘Emma Nolan Caught Feeling Up a Leprechaun’s Gold at the Docks’_ **

_Emma Nolan, long regarded as Storybrooke’s own, Ice Princess, was snapped by this reporter melting her tiara in the arms of Irish import, Killian Jones. Yes, readers, hands and legs were everywhere as Emma shamelessly cavorted with Killian on the deck of one of his family’s fishing vessels._

_Clearly, Miss Nolan knows how to get her lobster buttered!_

_Which begs the question, when she follows in her cousin, Zelena’s amoral footsteps and, ends up knocked up and exiled to Kansas, will the Jones’ be paying up in lobster tails or fish fingers?_

David’s ensuing apoplectic fit was epically newsworthy,


End file.
